


breath of spring (Billionaire)

by markhyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - High School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mark Lee is oblivious, Pining, Strangers to Lovers, band!au, donghyuck is whipped as usual, side Norenmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-26 20:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18289982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markhyuck/pseuds/markhyuck
Summary: WhenNeorecruits Donghyuck as their new lead vocalist, Mark is at first thoroughly swept off his feet by the singer's abilities, but starts to despise him for his different vocal and music style. Friction isn't the key to teamwork, though, and Mark wants to make it work. He really does.a markhyuck band!au





	1. pretty enough

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in celebration of fullsun's return! jaemin has a big role in it as well because we all love and support actor na <3______<3 also, congrats to our talented boys for their daesang!
> 
> original prompt [here](https://twitter.com/sunstellations/status/1110833981140815872)
> 
> A/N ages in this fic have been slightly altered, but the age hierarchy remains the same i.e. they have all been aged down by varying degrees, but doyoung is still older than all of them and mark is still older than the rest of the dreamies! 

"Alright, just once through more time, and then we'll wrap it up," Mark mutters, more to himself than anything, as his eyes scan the papers of sheet music laid out on the stand before him. Still, his band hears him clearly enough.

They wait patiently, instruments at the ready as their leader taps his pen on the score and scribbles down a few notes to himself. Mark eventually looks up and nods at their drummer, Jeno, giving him the cue to count down the start of the set.

_One,_  
_two,_  
_three,_  
_four._

The band launches into a lively beat. Doyoung's voice rings out loud and clear and mixes with Renjun's vocal accompaniment to form a sweet, sweet note of pure euphoria that reverberates throughout the entire studio. Mark finds himself falling into the music without much thought, fingers flying over his guitar in a way that only years of practice and sweat can produce. The transitions are easy, and there are only minor hiccups; after all, they have been practicing for this particular gig for months. They had, at one point, started to tire of it, but the event itself — _they're going to Los Angeles!_ — was such an exhilarating thought that boredom hardly crossed their minds again as they practiced.

Mark smiled encouragingly as he locked eyes with Jaemin, who'd switched from his usual position at the keyboard to pick up a violin for their last song of the set, _Go Up_. As they rose to a crescendo, he couldn't help but look back on their past two years together as a band, from when Jaemin had been struggling with figuring out new scores for the violin and Jeno was still missing beats every now and then.

And now look at them. They are  _professional_.

If only things could remain as such for a while longer. Mark would give the world for that.

 

 

 

"Alright, gather around," Mark calls out in English, clapping his hands together. From his spot on the floor, Renjun groans but makes a dramatically valiant, but futile, effort to get up. Jeno rolls his eyes, takes his arm and drags him over to complete the circle, where Jaemin and Doyoung are already seated beside Mark.

"Team debrief as usual. Today's practice was smoother than expected. Jeno, Renjun, good job — Doyoung hyung, I think you were overdoing it at the bridge of _Go Up_ , but I think the audience might like that if we keep up this level of energy at the build-up during our showcases. Jaemin, I want you to keep on the keyboard too, don't neglect it just because you're focusing on the violin for the most part of this new album."

Mark pauses to search each of his band members' eyes, but Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun and Doyoung are all already nodding in agreement. "Any other input?"

"Jeno's energy was perfect today," Doyoung quipped, leaning back lazily with his palms planted on the floor. "I've been trying to follow the guitar's rhythm and usually Jeno's just too loud for me to concentrate, but I think after cutting out the excess snare, it was great."

Jeno shoots Doyoung a thumbs up and a grin, and Mark's heart aches with gladness, knowing that they've been practicing hard together, even by themselves, with or without his supervision. That they are all working hard towards the same goal.

"Okay, then we'll close this session, but there's something else that has to be discussed," Mark says. The mood shifts quickly. There's a tense undercurrent of anxiety running through the air, and Jaemin's expression visibly falters. Despite the excitement surrounding the stunt in LA, it's going to be their last as the original lineup of _Neo_. Mark runs his fingers through his hair with a small purse of his lips before continuing.

"As you all already know, Doyoung hyung has decided not to continue performing with us after he graduates." Mark pauses as Doyoung shoots apologetic smiles to the rest of the band members. They all wear similar looks of disappointment on their faces, one that Mark schools himself not to wear, but nod in understanding.

"It's okay, hyung," Renjun frowns, as Doyoung reaches over to ruffle his hair appreciatively. "University is going to be a lot harder than SM High, after all. You're always going to be welcome back, though."

Mark smiles — waits for the moment to pass — before clearing his throat. "So that leaves us with the problem of a missing lead vocalist. Renjun, have you made a decision?"

Renjun pouts. "Yeah, no, I can't be lead."

Mark ignores Jaemin and Jeno's respective cries of "sure you can!" and "what the fuck Injun!" because he knows Renjun must have a good reason for his decision, he always does.

"I thought this would happen. I was thinking we could maybe hold an audition in school for a new lead vocal, maybe offer to let them join us on our street tour of LA. We'll only pick the best."

The sounds of protest that follow almost immediately take Mark aback. The band rarely disagrees with him; they are usually compliant with his directions and trust their leader to make the decisions, but after two years together, this is the first major decision they are making and it involves _family_.

Jaemin, sweet and ever-encouraging as he is, is the first to put down the idea. "I know you have aspirations for _Neo_ , Mark, but I don't think we could replace Doyoung hyung like that."

"We can't just let _any_ good singer join us. What if they turn out to be a complete trash of a person?" Renjun adds. "We can't pay for their trip, too, if we're not secure that they're going to be joining us permanently."

"Renjun has a point," Doyoung cuts in. "Actually, I've been thinking about it — I have someone in mind."

All eyes turn to the oldest curiously, but Doyoung just smiles. "You'll see. He's great, I promise. Trust me!"

 

 

 

Mark knocks on the door to Doyoung's apartment, guitar case slung over his back. He really likes this place — it's old and a little small, the white paint on the door is peeling in odd places, but it smells like home. It's covered in memories with the rest of _Neo_.

It's a Saturday and school is off, which means that the band simply gathers to hang out at the oldest hyung's place (he has the Nintendo Switch). It had initially started as mandatory weekly band 'bonding sessions' Mark implemented that Renjun had rolled his eyes at, but now it was routine. Familiar. On the rare Saturdays that they were called off, not having them felt _empty_.

_Neo_ 's members loved each other like themselves.

But today, their bonding session is about to be interrupted by Doyoung's introduction of their (hopefully) new member. Mark insisted on putting him through a thorough audition to test his capabilities.

Singing well wasn't enough. He needed to be able to keep up with the band, and he needed to look pretty enough to be the face of the band, as all lead vocalists usually were.  _Neo_ already had a reputation amongst the high schools and music scene in Seoul as a self-made band that produced their own, original music. A small-shot producer from LA had taken notice of them too, so word of them must have travelled.

Mark wasn't sure how they would respond to the most foregrounded member of the band being swapped out.

They were so close to producing albums, but they still had a long way to go. After all, they were still students. The new lead vocalist needed to be able to walk that journey with them.

To nobody's surprise, his knocks go unanswered. Judging from the screams coming from inside, nobody has even heard him. He rolls his eyes as he pushes the door open to find exactly the scene he was expecting waiting for him — Jeno on top of Jaemin _and_ Renjun, tickling the life out of them as Doyoung eggs him on from the side. There's an unfamiliar boy by Doyoung's side, eyes shining with mirth as he watches the exchange.

Mark's social faculties momentarily stop working when the boy glances his way and smiles in greeting, a little shy.

_He's pretty enough, all right._ Mark forgets to smile back as he closes the door behind him and crosses the room to set his guitar down.

Thankfully, intervention comes in the form of Doyoung. He introduces the boy, Lee Donghyuck, whose million-watt smile rivals Jaemin's. _Haechan_ , comes the boy's firm correction. He's apparently Doyoung's boyfriend's little brother, and he jams out with the older often.

"I promise his voice is amazing," Doyoung assures Mark sincerely. "Almost as good as mine."

"Hyung!" Donghyuck's voice is high, whiny. A little thin. Mark isn't sure he is going to like that voice quality, but he trusts his friend.

"Oh, yeah, he is amazing," Jaemin sits up, coughing, now out of Jeno's evil clutches. Mark turns around — had become so used to the band members' antics that he hadn't even noticed when the screams and laughter stopped.

"Oh, do you know each other?"

"Yeah, we were in middle school together. Hyuckie and I were good friends, right, Hyuckie? I didn't know you knew Doyoung hyung," Jaemin turns back to Mark, eyes glinting. "He can sing like a canary."

"Jaemin!" Donghyuck yelps, reaching over to smack the pink-haired boy's arm in embarrassment, but there's a pleased flush to his cheeks. "I'm _Haechan_ now."

Mark can't help but admire the chemistry Donghyuck — Haechan — already has with the band members. Somewhere in the course of the conversation, Jeno had come to stand beside the new boy, and Donghyuck casually leaned against his shoulder while the taller ruffled his hair.

"Alright, canary boy," Mark finally says, picking up his guitar and adjusting the strap over his shoulders. His hopes are rising, but he doesn't want to dash them just yet, so he keeps being skeptical. "Show us what you've got."

" _I'm Yours_ in the key of G, please."

Mark raises a brow, already impressed by the boy's confidence, and strums a note. Then Haechan begins to _sing_ , and Mark forgets that he's here to judge him as harshly as possible.

Haechan's voice is melodious and Mark feels himself slipping under a charm he never knew he would hear outside of an edited studio recording. The vocalist's voice drips like melted chocolate into a small crevice that winds and winds, each echo reaching into the corners of Doyoung's tiny living room, which has grown so silent that the only sound apart from the diminishing strums of Mark's guitar and Haechan's voice is the noise of traffic from outside.

Mark eventually stops playing altogether to close his eyes and simply _listen_ , and Haechan tilts his head questioningly but continues singing anyway.

In the swirl of Mark's mind, only one thought forms a coherent line. _He is the one._ The phrase is jarring and Mark can't make much sense of it, doesn't quite comprehend why he came up with that, but it feels so natural and it becomes a slogan in Mark's head. _He is the one, he is the one, he is the one._

It takes a while for Mark to realise that Haechan has stopped singing, but it's still deathly quiet and everyone, save for Doyoung who is grinning smugly, looks as stunned as he feels.

Jaemin recovers first. "Told you he sings like a canary!"

It's the understatement of the year. Mark makes a noise that is halfway between a disbelieving snort and a scoff. Haechan shoots him a wounded look that he doesn't notice as he nods at the rest of the band, who are already setting up their instruments, save for Jeno who's perched leisurely on a cajon instead of his usual drum set. "You have... a really unique vocal colour. Haechan, do you know any of our songs? We should do a full-band jam, just to see if we're, uh, compatible."

"You didn't like that song?" Haechan asks worriedly.

Mark turns around to reassure him that it's completely the opposite, but the boy with the smile is suddenly _in his space_ , full-blown pout on his face and eyes large and innocent. Mark stutters. "N-no, I like you, I swear I do!"

Behind them, he hears rustling, some papers being dropped, and then someone giggles. Renjun quietly whispers.

"Oh my god."

 

 

 

"Do we even have to do this?" Jeno complains, as they sit in a circle on the floor. It's getting late, but Mark had insisted they keep practicing with Haechan, checking his compatibility with Renjun first of all (their voices melded perfectly — Mark hated to admit this, but Doyoung was right — perhaps even more perfectly than Doyoung and Renjun's), then Jaemin on the keyboard and then the violin with Haechan, then asked Jeno if Haechan posed any potential problems to his playing. (To which Jeno had rolled his eyes and replied _no, he's always on the beat even when we drop it_.)

Now they are about to take a vote on whether Haechan should join them. "But the verdict is obvious," Jeno shrugs. "Any objections to Hyuckie?"

A moment passes. No one objects, but Renjun wiggles his eyebrows at Jeno. "'Hyuckie' already?" Jeno shoves him.

Mark clears his throat. "Fine, but I also wanted to hear if there are any opinions on potential areas for improvement..."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Haechan's laughter is the first thing Mark hears when he pulls his luggage towards row five in Incheon International Airport. The vocalist and Jaemin are the first there, conversing in excited but hushed tones because of the sleepy travellers around them. After all, it's barely 6AM in the morning.

Haechan's laugh is contagious, maybe even a bit melodic to Mark. He finds himself smiling as he plops down in a seat opposite them. "Hey. You guys ready for LA?"

"Morning, Mark," Haechan quips, with a smile too bright for the ungodly hour. "You dyed your hair blond for the trip! It looks good."

Jaemin snorts and nudges him with a knowing smirk, and Haechan flushes, smacking him back. Mark's brows pinch together, but he's still smiling. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, just about how he's been a fan of our music for the longest time," the pink-haired keyboardist drawls, and there's a small tussle as Haechan turns to strangle him. Mark quirks his brow in interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, which SM student isn't a fan of you guys," Haechan mutters, his face heating up slightly. "And Doyoung hyung is amazing too!"

"The best out there," Mark agrees, a swell of pride fluttering in his chest. But he's quick to add, "But you're pretty good yourself, Haechan. Do you play any instruments?"

"The piano," Haechan pauses in fighting Jaemin to reply enthusiastically, and Mark can't help but admire the way his face completely lights up as if crossed by a thousand falling stars. "I take vocal lessons from a professional, actually!"

Mark's brows shoot high into his fringe this time, but he doesn't get to reply because the rest turn up, half-asleep and dragging large suitcases along, packing properly be damned. Mark's on chaperoning duty, as usual, making sure everyone gets to the check-in and flight on time. He swears that Haechan's presence just makes everything ten times more chaotic, if possible, with his sarcastic comments and witty, snarky demeanour.

Yep, he definitely doesn't dislike _Neo_ 's new dynamics with Haechan now involved.

In fact, he can't seem to see anything more perfect.

If he swaps seats on the plane with Doyoung later to sit beside the new vocalist, the rest don't comment. _I have to get to know him better. It's for the band's sake_ , Mark says. Jaemin snickers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this before i saw that haechan actually said I'm Yours is a song that he and mark practiced a lot together predebut! imagine little markhyuck singing _i won't hesitate no more, no more, it cannot wait, i'm yours_ together sdfjskf


	2. deplorably oblivious

 

The flight from Seoul to LA is eleven hours long, but before Mark knows it, lunchtime is already rolling around.

A pretty flight attendant comes by, asking if they prefer beef or pasta and if they would like some apple juice with that. Haechan shoots back an, "I have enough beef with Mark right here already," and orders a pasta, while Mark shoots him a glare but opts for pasta too.

He really doesn't know how this happened.

One minute, they were buckling their seat belts and stowing their hand-held luggage beneath the airplane's cushioned seats with an awkward air between them, the next, talking animatedly about anything and _everything_.

Haechan had broken the silence with a simple, "This airplane stinks," before launching into a humourous anecdote about his brother's habit of spraying Febreeze around his seat before a flight.

Falling into companionable chatter was easy after that; Mark only interjected here and there at first, letting Haechan steer the conversation like he seemed to do effortlessly.

But the younger started talking about music, and Mark _had_ to talk then.

About how he had discovered music when he found his mother's old vinyl records, learned the guitar from his father, and hung out in a recording studio owned by a family friend every day after school to do his homework. About how he picked up classical guitar lessons soon after, but he was already a stellar player then, so he was only taking them so he could better understand music theory.

Mark told Haechan about going through each grade faster than anyone on this track that he knew, and how by the last grade he had five or six self-composed guitar tunes in the recesses of his floppy disc. How he quickly developed a corresponding keyboard score and let Jaemin, barely an acquaintance then, have a look. Jaemin's toothy smile and encouragements were enough to spur him on into developing his tunes into full tracks, and in a year, Jaemin and Mark were jamming together frequently and bouncing new ideas for their music off each other.

How Jaemin, and not Mark, was the very foundation for _Neo_ , as well as a wonderful friend.

Haechan was as good a listener as he was a talker. He gave Mark pleased, impressed expressions, and shook his head with disapproval at all the right times. He listened with rapt attention, even when he pulled out his Nintendo to check on his Animal Crossing halfway through.

Perhaps it was the fact that they were on a plane and there was not much else to do, perhaps the younger was naturally attentive to people.

Either way, Mark appreciated it.

Somewhere along the way, talk about music turned to other passions that both of them shared. There was a grand total of: absolutely none.

Mark didn't mind. He liked the winter and Haechan liked the summer. Haechan couldn't keep a conversation serious for more than three minutes, while Mark struggled to follow the boisterous vocalist's train of thought when he lapsed into fits of giggles. Mark enjoyed action-packed dramas that featured intense plot lines, while Haechan argued for the good ol' sappy romance cliches. It wasn't long before the civil talk turned into non-stop bickering, and even a bit of tussling when Mark shoved the surprisingly clingy vocalist off him from time to time.

_It's fine_ , Mark thinks, as they finish up their lunch — not without more bantering — and Haechan lays his head on his new friend's shoulder, snuggling up to a stiff Mark with a sleepy yawn. "'M going to sleep."

The guitarist doesn't actually think he can survive staying still for the duration of Haechan's nap, but when he turns to frown at the younger, there's a pout forming on the doe-eyed boy's lips that makes him feel heartless. So he snaps his mouth shut, rolls his eyes with a smile, and carefully moves an arm to slide the shutter of their aisle's window down without jostling the brown-haired boy.

"Get some rest, then."

 

 

 

Mark's already gone through two _Spiderman_ movies when Haechan wakes up. He's all but relieved when the smaller stirs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and accidentally kicking Mark as he stretches. He rolls his shoulder, and the pins and needles begin. "Ow, shit."

Haechan doesn't even look abashed as he grins at Mark, his shy demeanour — which Mark had immediately and mistakenly assumed about his personality on first impression — completely gone. Mark scowls at him, and Haechan has the nerve to stick his tongue out in defiance.

"Brat."

"Rat," comes Haechan's speedy counter-insult.

"What?"

"I don't know. It rhymes. You kind of look like a rat, anyway."

Mark throws his arm around Haechan's shoulder. The chestnut brown-haired boy leans into his touch, a cheeky smile fluttering across his lips.

Then Mark chokes the life out of him.

 

 

 

"Here you go," Mark says, passing three hotel key cards labelled with the room number '3207' to Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun. "You guys are sharing the room that comes with the kitchenette, so be warned that we're going to barge in every now and then."

"You hear that, Renjun?" Jaemin teases. "Gotta keep your stuff tidy!"

"Yes, _mom_ ," the Chinese boy retaliates, punching him in the arm. A small scuffle ensues, and Mark tunes them out — again — to flash Jeno a small, covert smile.

Jeno had been the one to request that the three of them share a room, after all. Something about exploring his feelings for the other two during the trip, something that the drummer had admitted to Mark when they were alone in the music studio with a blush adorning his cheeks.

Mark hadn't been surprised. He wasn't blind, after all, to how unusually close the three of them were, and acceded to the request on the condition that they use protection.

Jeno, of course, kicked him. Mark barely dodged in time while guffawing.

 

 

 

"Um, well, I have one single room here, and a double that two of us will have to shar—" Mark hasn't even finished his sentence before Doyoung snatches the only key card labelled '3215' out of the leader's hands.

"None of you skunks is allowed in my space," he laughs good-naturedly, already dragging his luggage towards the lift. The trio hurry after him, while Haechan turns to Mark with a look of mischief. Mark gulps nervously.

"I guess it's just you and me then, Canada!"

Mark flashes him a warning glare. "Any funny business and you're homeless, Haechan."

The vocalist has the audacity to laugh in his face.

 

 

 

Mark stretches as flops onto the bed he had colonised, the one nearer to the bathroom.

The moment they had entered, Haechan had raced over to the bed by the window, dumping his luggage on it and immediately opening it to sort through its contents. "Dibs!"

The guitarist had pretended to groan in annoyance, but truthfully, he preferred the other one, anyway. It was nearer to the entrance, and convenience was his top priority. It was just another one of those little things the duo couldn't agree on, but that was why it worked out beautifully.

They spent a good half an hour unpacking and making the place homely — for Haechan, this meant messing up the bedspread and throwing everything around his space haphazardly; for Mark, it was simply laying out his things neatly and hanging up his clothes in the hotel room's shared closet. Then he had gone to take a shower and freshen up, leaving the younger lounging on his bed, scrolling through his phone lazily.

Until now, he hasn't moved from his position, and shoots Mark a lazy glance as the guitarist settles onto the sheets, yawning.

"Are you going to nap?" 

Mark hums in reply, eyes already falling shut from the early and exhausting day. "I couldn't really get comfortable enough on the flight to sleep, so I'll just have a short one before dinner."

The bed beside him dips, and then a certain sunny boy is clambering between the sheets beside him, pressing into his side. "Scoot over, fathead."

The fathead grumbles, doesn't make an effort to move, so Haechan pushes and prods him until he does as he's told. Haechan seems pleased as he snuggles up to him, pulling the older's arm around him.

"You have your _own_ bed," Mark insists, but Haechan doesn't budge, just peering at him with bright eyes that make the guitarist's head hurt. So he closes his eyes again instead with a slight shake of his head. "And you didn't shower."

"I'm still pretty fresh," Haechan whines, and Mark doesn't comment, but he agrees.

With each inhale, he unwittingly gets a whiff of the younger's scent because they're so damn _close_ , something like pinewood and a breath of spring, even a lingering trace of Mark's own cologne on the younger, from when they were huddled together on the plane.

He dozes off somewhere in between Haechan's quiet rambling and patting of his hair. He doesn't know what it is about the vocalist; he normally doesn't warm up to anyone _this_ fast or let them touch him so intimately, but with him, it feels natural. Haechan is a natural cuddler.

He dreams lightly, of walking through pinewood in a sparse forest and dry leaves crunching underfoot. Sunlight filters down through the budding trees, and he's alone, yet not lonely at all.

A jumble of emotions whirl through his mind, but the only feeling he can make any sense of is contentment.

He just walks and walks. At one point, a canary in a pine tree sings a lullaby to him. He stops to listen, and when it flits away to another tree, he follows it through the underbrush.

Mark wakes up with a sense of disorientation and the tune of _I'm Yours_  stuck on loop in his head. Haechan is gone from his side, but he can hear his voice and Jeno's from somewhere to the right. He allows himself a moment to blink the sleep out of his eyes, before shifting to regain his bearings.

"You're finally up," Jeno calls, and Mark blinks at him owlishly. His friend is already bundled up in a fashionable jacket and jeans, while Haechan is still wearing the hoodie from earlier, looking sheepish as he turns into the bathroom.

"Come on, Canada, everyone's waiting for us to go down and get dinner."

 

 

 

When they finally appear in the lobby of the hotel where the rest of _Neo_ are gathered to wait for them, Haechan is hugging Mark's arm as if he hadn't just spent the entire day doing that.

Mark, at this point, has given up trying to shake him off, and greets his friends with a pleasant smile that he hopes will ward off any unwanted comments.

Haechan, on the other hand, just doesn't seem to care. "Where are we eating?"

"Injun found this restaurant just nearby that the concierge recommended," Jeno says kindly, and it would normally gross him out, but Mark is thankful for the heart eyes the taller boy is shooting at Renjun right now, sufficiently distracting them from Haechan and Mark.

"Absolutely disgusting, all of you," Doyoung declares, but there's a small smile on his face as he nudges Renjun, who seems to come back to reality at that. "Lead the way, Jun."

Mark is somewhat relieved when Jaemin lags behind the others who are already hurrying out onto the streets of LA, excited to explore the night's sights and sounds. As much as he likes the new member of _Neo_ , he can't help but feel anxious as time passes, drawing them closer to their showcases. Jaemin's words, reassurances and presence was always good enough to ground him.

He falls into step with the keyboardist, with Haechan still on his heel.

"How was moving in?"

Jaemin has a slightly wistful smile when his gaze lingers on Renjun and Jeno.

"It was fun, we're already closer and it hasn't been a day. This trip is gonna be bomb," his eyes shift to Haechan's. "Isn't it, Hyuck?"

"Haechan," the brunette insists again, but his eyes smile with a sort of mirth that Mark can't decipher.

"I was thinking maybe we should get some practice in tonight," Mark begins, but never gets to finish because Jaemin cuts him off.

"Hey, hey, hey. Mark Lee, get your mind off practice. We agreed to enjoy ourselves on the first night here. The next few days are going to be tiring enough."

The leader purses his lips, feeling a little lost, but then the pink-haired boy smiles and presses a finger on the crease between Mark's brows to rub it away. Just like that, the tension in his shoulders dissipates.

"You think too lowly of yourself. We can play every song from that set in our sleep by now. Renjun was still listening to the recordings on loop the entire plane ride. I don't know how he does it, I would go insane."

Mark cracks a smile. "Renjun has always been the most hardworking one out of all of us, if you don't count Doyoung hyung. He just wants to go home earlier."

Beside him, Haechan stifles his laughter. All of a sudden, Mark is thinking about how _glad_ he is that the rest of the band disagreed with him.

If they had held auditions instead, chances are, a certain sunny smile wouldn't be there to lighten everything like a breath of spring, as if he had been with them the entire time.

 

 

 

The next few days pass in a blur. Their schedule is absolutely packed, but just the way Mark likes it. No classes and household chores, just music, music and more music.

They rise early in the morning and pile into a small hired van, laden with equipment, which takes them anywhere.

They busk in the streets of LA, braving heat and winds to entertain crowds who have never bothered to listen to Korean music. They play every song they have ever practiced together, and Haechan even does a few numbers, when Doyoung or Renjun need a break. Someone asks Renjun and Haechan to do an acapella duet of I.O.I's _Downpour_ , and it is such an instant hit that they go on to sing it for every new crowd.

Neo takes photos with some passers-by who stop and stay for whole hours. They take requests, and introduce some of their older original compositions to the crowd. Doyoung, Haechan and Jeno even sign a few autographs on phone covers and scraps of paper.

By the end of the week, Haechan's tan skin is glowing and sunburnt even with generous layers of sunscreen applied, Doyoung has finished seven packs of lozenges, and Mark's fingers are blistering again, even though they've been calloused from plucking the strings for _years_.

They check their SNS eagerly every night, and sure enough, their subscriptions and follower counts creep up slowly but surely. Still, it isn't the explosion of influence they were expecting, and it's not enough to allow them to expand to LA. While the rest of _Neo_ congratulate each other after a long day, Mark broodingly retreats to his room.

Only Haechan seems to notice the nightly drop in his mood, which became more and more foul with each passing day. At first, the vocalist had kept his distance, supposing that their leader was simply tired and needed space. Mark didn't know if he was grateful for that, or yearned for the younger's usual sunny yet snarky demeanor, and it only added to Mark's baseless worries.

Halfway through the week, Haechan slid onto Mark's bed behind the guitarist, who stiffened at their proximity once again. Affection was something he admittedly had yet to get used to, and in its absence the past couple of days when Haechan was keeping his distance, found himself craving. Yet, now that Haechan was here again, pressing his palms to massage the curve of his shoulders, he found it hard to relax.

But then the younger ran his fingers down his arms, telling him to "relax, you're so tense," and Mark melted into the warmth of his touch. Before he knew it, he was putty under the vocalist's careful ministrations, willing himself to simply _forget everything and focus on Haechan— no, the massage_.

"What's bothering you?" The brunette mused, and Mark sighed, closing his eyes, feeling the energy sap out of him once more. Haechan, sensing his, doubled his efforts to make the guitarist feel at ease. "You don't have to say anything if it stresses you out, but bottling things up is no good either."

At Mark's sideways glance, he smiled sheepishly. "Jaemin told me to look after you, and that you have a tendency to do that. Bottle things up, I mean. You expect too much of yourself."

The blond-haired boy mentally cursed Jaemin and how observant he was, but the words took him by surprise, and there was an undercurrent of gratitude that welled up slowly in Mark's chest. He had never heard them, not even from Jaemin himself, so to know that someone looks out for him enough is touching. 

But in the next moment, that thought made him feel silly; _of course_  the others care about him. Mark might be their leader, but they all look out for him in their own, small ways.

Jeno always gets him an extra bottle of water and keeps a spare towel in his bag when they hit the gym together.

Renjun makes sure to compliment him in the most insulting way possible every now and then, but that's just his way of showing appreciation.

Doyoung _never_ stops nagging at him to get enough sleep, because _humans don't run on music, Mark Lee_.

Jaemin, of course, Mark's best friend of three years, has him down to a tee, always knows what to say. _God bless Jaemin's soul_ , Mark thought.

Haechan's face swam into his field of vision again, worriedly peering at Mark's expression and lifting a thumb to rub away the crease between his brows, like Jaemin had done just a few days prior, and the leader smiled.

Haechan... Haechan was never out of complaints, demands, smiles or hugs, and it made Mark feel a certain way he couldn't quite put a name to, but he definitely felt cared for. The younger boy was a heavy tropical rain that left the earth refreshed, but was as overwhelming as he was bright. "Canada?"

"I was thinking," Mark had said slowly then, the thoughts floating around in his mind slowly coming together to form a coherent worry. "We're not doing as good as I expected. I don't think we've even hit half the target for the LA audience. And our showcase is next week, we only have a few days left before we drop our new album."

Haechan considered this, his face contorting as if he were itching to contradict Mark. _No, we're doing amazingly, what are you talking about?_ is what the guitarist expects to hear, so when he instead smiles breathlessly with a, "I have an idea," he looks up in surprise.

"Remember back in sophomore year, when you performed _Drop_ with the girl... what's her name... Bulgogi?"

"Seulgi," Mark corrects, even more surprised that Haechan remembers something like this from two years ago.

It had been Mark's first composition, even before _Neo_ had formed, and it had been an absolute flop. The audience had seemed bored out of their minds, or at least that was Mark thought when he caught sight of someone yawning behind a fist.

It was the only one of his originals that he hadn't bothered to rearrange for Neo, too embarrassed about it.

"You rapped, right?"

"I did," Mark said slowly, not knowing where this was going. "What about it?"

"When I wasn't performing, I would mingle with the audience and talk to them. My English is terrible, but I picked up one or two things," Haechan paused to beam at Mark, a proud smile that made the guitarist curious, leaning closer subconsciously. "They liked the music a lot, but some of them said it was too... musical? Needs something to spice things up. They suggested rap. Some different beats too."

Mark was stumped. "You're suggesting I rap?"

"I saw a lot of people asking about you rapping in the comments sections on _Neo_ 's Youtube page too. Most of them were SMHS students from a year or two ago, of course, because nobody else knows you rapped on stage before, but I promise you they're valid."

Mark had seen those comments, of course. They had been tempting at first — Mark liked rapping, he truly did, but one memory of the failure that was _Drop_ , and he had shuddered, abandoned the idea and never looked back again.

Not even Jaemin's encouragement back then had made him budge, and the keyboardist never mentioned it again. He was as content as Mark was with their current style of music. There was no need to dive into something that nobody would particularly enjoy.

But the prospect of spicing up their music was tantalising; it was something urgently needed.

" _Drop_  was pretty bad. I mean, I wrote it so long ago. I'm talentless at rapping," Mark laughs humourlessly. Haechan smiled, shaking his head as he pulled up a Youtube video on his phone.

"That's where you're wrong. You weren't on form that day, that's for sure, I could hear your sore throat from all the way at the back of the auditorium, but you have raw talent. Even my vocal trainer said so."

"You... told your vocal trainer about me?"

Haechan blushed. "She's a fan of _Neo_ now, actually. Here, try this out, the rap part's easy and pretty cool..."

 

 

 

It's Thursday evening, the only free time they really have to themselves to enjoy their pseudo vacation. Doyoung had immediately retreated to his room to Facetime his boyfriend, Taeyong — to his mild annoyance, Haechan joined in for a while to say hi to his brother.

Annoyance, but not quite. There was something fond mixed in the exasperation. _An effect that Haechan has on everybody,_ Mark supposes.

Mark and Haechan had opted to stay in today. The latter was more than ready to nap the entire evening away, claiming his vocal chords needed repair as his body rested.

"It doesn't work that way," Renjun had said, but the brunette was having none of it.

Mark, on the other hand, was ready to spend those few hours practicing for their showcase, still jittery about it. Haechan had threatened him, with a very much unwanted kiss, into napping (read: cuddling a little too intimately for Mark's liking) together instead.

Meanwhile, Jeno publicly asked Renjun and Jaemin out to cafe hop around LA together, and they both agreed with ecstatic smiles. They left the hotel the moment they got back from the afternoon's busking, with promises of bringing back pastries and sweets.

So the sad-sounding text that comes from Jaemin later that evening, saying he's outside the hotel, almost sends Mark into a panic.

 

"What's up, buddy," Mark greets, taking a seat beside his best friend. Jaemin is sitting at the edge of the hotel's fountain out front of the lobby, an uncharacteristically spacey expression on his face.

Jaemin stirs a bit, but it's just to plop his head onto Mark's shoulder in a gesture that seems all too familiar and reminds him of a certain vocalist who is probably sipping on some honey lemon and scrolling through Instagram in Mark's bed at this very moment.

Jaemin is affectionate, but not like this. He doesn't initiate contact with Mark unless it's a hug, or he is faux flirting to get a reaction.

Mark doesn't know what to say, so he absentmindedly rests a hand on his friend's thigh, rubbing circles onto it. It's a habit he developed around Haechan recently. Jaemin glances down, but doesn't comment.

A beat of silence stretches out between them, but eventually the pink-haired boy sighs. "Jeno kissed me today."

Something inexplicable blooms in Mark's chest. _So Jeno finally figured his feelings out._

"And?" he prompts, not getting why Jaemin seems so downcast.

"And I don't know why he did that."

"Isn't it obvious? People only kiss for one reason. He probably likes you, Nana."

The keyboardist's head lifts from Mark's shoulder and sends a withering glance to his best friend that makes him instantly feel like curling up in shame for reasons he can't name. After all, he _knows_  he's right.

"You know, for someone who can't even get to classes without being hit on by some girl, you sure are dense."

Mark gasps theatrically, offended.

Jaemin pinches the bridge of his nose. "And now you're starting to sound like Donghyuck. You know, this is why you've never dated anyone."

"Neither have you," Mark retorts. "Wait, Haechan has never dated anyone?"

The long-suffering sigh that Jaemin lets out is, if anything, rewarding. It's not a good thing that he is frustrated, of course, but it means that Mark has sufficiently distracted him from his pity party.

"No, I mean the fact that you are deplorably  _oblivious_ is why you're still single. People kiss for a lot of reasons. I'm not even sure Jeno likes me."

Mark is, for a long moment, dumbstruck. "Why not?"

"I think he's confused."

"I'm confused."

"Jeno likes Injunnie, now that is obvious. They spend all their time together. Sometimes, it's like he doesn't even notice I'm in the room when Injun is around, and then he does this. I'm pretty sure he's just confusing his feelings for Injun with our friendship.

"I mean, it's not like I've liked the both of them forever. I'm so obvious so Jeno definitely knows, which makes me an easy alternative," Jaemin's sarcastic laugh is jarring and unpleasant.

Mark has so many things to say, but he bites back his words and pats his back sympathetically.

So he's not the only one who's deplorably oblivious, after all.

Perhaps Jeno just needs a nudge in the right direction.

Jaemin slumps against him in defeat. Mark suppresses a chuckle and pulls him in for a hug, which the pink-haired keyboardist returns gratefully.

Mark hardly ever initiates contact, but the side of him that wants to protect Jaemin and the rest of _Neo_ ( _oh, and Haechan included,_ his brain helpfully quips) acts on instinct, reaching out to comfort the younger in his distress. And he's terrible with words when they're not instructions or a pep talk, so he shuts up.

"Maybe I've also been a bit lonelier. You spend a lot of time with Hyuckie nowadays," Jaemin says quietly, but quickly adds, "It's not a bad thing, of course, I love that for you both! It's just, not the same, you know?"

"I'm sorry." Mark doesn't feel sorry, not really.

He feels the change too, but Haechan makes him feel lighter. He cherishes that feeling; it is almost like being a sophomore or junior again, having fun with the sunny vocalist at regular practices, rapping, inventing new, nonsensical riffs that he manages to tame and make his own, even singing a bit.

He returns to reality when there's a hard whack on his head. He glares at Jaemin, who is now openly laughing at him.

"As I was saying before you zoned out, you and Hyuckie make a great pair. I heard you both singing when I passed your room just now, and were you rapping? Holy shit, Mark Lee. A demon named Lee Donghyuck possessed you real good."

Mark flushes red, knowing Jaemin is thinking about  _Drop_ just like he is. "Listen—"

"—you should do it for the showcase."

One beat of silence. Two. Then, "What?"

"You and Hyuckie. Duet together. _Billionaire_ sounded really good. We don't even need the instruments, just a backing track. Oh, and Hyuck and Injun's _Downpour_. You do realise that it could be his official debut with us, right?"

_Haechan's official debut with us._ It's a nice thought. Mark can't fight off the smile on his face, even long after his heart-to-heart talk with Jaemin by the fountain under LA's night lamps has ended.

He returns to his room to find all the lights off and Haechan already fast asleep on Mark's bed.

"Idiot," Mark mutters under his breath. "Why was he so excited about taking the window-side bed when he was just going to sleep in mine every time?"

 

 

 

When Mark was four, just about everything he owned was blue. He carried a blue backpack to school, wore blue shirts with denim bermudas, and had a small, blue water bottle with 'MAK' scrawled across it in chicken scratch permanent marker.

Blue was his colour, there was no question about it. All his birthday presents from his aunts and uncles in Vancouver came in different shades of blue, whether they were toy aeroplanes, shirts, or gift-wrapped books.

So the one, fateful day when a scrawny-looking preschool classmate of Mark's casually commented that she disliked blue, Mark got into his first heated argument.

It started with a slew of insults that quickly turned into threatening gestures, and soon after, a full on fist fight.

Mark Lee, ever the gentleman, punched a girl when he was four because she disliked the colour blue.

When he came home later that afternoon, sporting a black eye and scratches down his arm, his parents hadn't scolded him. They put him in front of them, and asked why he went and got himself into a fight with a _girl_.

"We didn't raise you like this," they said sternly.

Four-year-old Mark jutted his lower lip out petulantly. "She didn't like blue."

"So? People are allowed to have different opinions from yours."

"She said blue is _ugly_ ," Mark said, disbelief wavering in his voice as he stared at his parents uncomprehendingly. 

 

Mark feels a bit like the immature four-year-old he was now, as he stares at Haechan, who is speaking a mile a minute about the different adjustments they can make to their performance.

Jaemin had brought up _Billionaire_  to the rest of _Neo_ , and after one forced run-through of it, they had all collectively agreed that Mark and Haechan _had_  to add this item into the band's upcoming showcase.

It was all fun and games before, but now, Mark ensures that they work on their chemistry and delivery of the song every free moment.

_Not that you need to,_ Jaemin had pointed out helpfully.

 

"But then why don't you change _your_  lyrics too?" Mark doesn't do well with people disagreeing with him. He hasn't since he was four, one of the fatal flaws of being a Leo. Especially not when they concern music, what more _his_  music.

He has been working hard on perfecting _Billionaire_ 's rap for the past half a week, and he is adamant about performing it as it is, to ensure perfect delivery.

They barely have a few days left, after all. Changing it now would be too risky. Right now, his short practice time is barely skimming his usual standards.

"Didn't you hear anything I just said?" There's a hint of annoyance in Haechan's voice. "That's how rap just is, you should know that better than I do. It's weird when you change a vocalist's lyrics, they call it a rip-off. But when a song's rap is exactly the same, you're only going to impress a few people. It's considered  _unoriginal_."

What ticks Mark off more than anything is that Haechan's opinions are supported by well-established facts about the latest music trends and, god forbid, _music theory_.

No one, not even Na Jaemin, has ever contradicted him when it comes to music arrangement before, because Mark is the best they have.

That, and no one aside from him in the band has ever studied music theory.

"Maybe you should also change the rhythm. Not the rhythm of the backing track, of course, but your rap. Stick to it at first, then slow down, drag out your syllables, like what you did with _Drop_. Then, there would be no way LA can call our music uniform and homogeneous."

Mark swears he tries his back to keep his emotions off his face, but something akin to hot anger rears its ugly head in his chest. " _Homogeneous?_  They're just racist because we're Asian."

"No doubt about that," Haechan says evenly. Unlike Mark, he doesn't raise his voice. "But I'm just repeating some common opinions I heard. No need to bite my head off, Lee."

Some part of the older screams that he's being irrational.

It's strange how quickly he lost his cool, but the suffocating feeling of anger is still simmering in his expression and clawing at his chest.

He hasn't felt this emotion in a while. He prizes himself on being a level-headed person, and the band too acknowledges the fact, that he's a good leader because he's always ready to accept feedback with an encouraging smile.

But something in Haechan's tone rubs him the wrong way.

It sounds a lot to him like arrogance and disrespect.

Haechan is still eyeing him with a bit of disdain at his reaction, but there's something else there. Concern.

Mark doesn't _need_ anyone's concern right now.

Haechan raises a brow as Mark puffs out his chest and tries to be the bigger person. "Fine, I'll think about it." With that, he throws the door open and leaves, taking only his phone and the key card with him.

 


End file.
